


Uneasy

by Blink23



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Cute, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:33:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24814630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blink23/pseuds/Blink23
Summary: Henry wasn’t stupid; you didn’t get into West Point if you were dumb, no matter what your connections were. He knew some men found comfort in each other in the war, but that’s just what it was. Two men needing release, with no woman in sight.Judging from the way Webster’s holding Liebgott, this wasn’t anything like that.
Relationships: Joseph Liebgott/David Kenyon Webster
Comments: 3
Kudos: 61





	Uneasy

**Author's Note:**

> I whipped this out in like... an hour, so no promises. The idea was just trapped in my head and would NOT leave, along with another one about these two (that should be finished soon)

They’re told to get a good night's sleep. To lie to their superiors, to go against everything he’s been taught for the last four years and so many months in jump school. 

Henry knows why. He knows, even after a few days, that these men deserve it. He’s seen the way they act, beat down and weary of the world. Even weary of their friends, if the way they treat Webster is any sign.

Despite this, he’s still uneasy about it. If anyone found out - if anyone looked into it – every officer in the unit who knew would be court-martial. The thought is enough to keep him awake.

After a few hours of staring at the ceiling, he gets up, tightening his boots to wander. The cellar should be empty, and he knows he can pace until his heart's content there.

He’s half way down the hall on the second floor when he sees light from the open door of a room to his right. He creeps silently, hoping to slink by and not alert whoever is present, but freezes when he sees that it’s Webster and Liebgott.

He stumbled on them in a standstill, it seems. Webster is sitting hunched into himself on a table that occupies the space which was clearly a dining room at one point, as Liebgott stands in front of him, arms across his chest.

“I know I should’ve been there,” Webster finally says, frustrated, “I know it, alright? But they told me if an infection set into my bone I might lose it, and then what fucking use am I to anyone?”

Liebgott lets out a snort, “that’s your fucking excuse? Bill and Toye-”

“I know I fucked up. I knowI should've been there for the guys, okay? You don’t need to rub it in my face that I’m a fucking coward. I tried so hard to get back, after. I just didn’t think you’d hate me for this when it wasn’t really my fault.”

Liebgott lets out a sarcastic sounding laugh.

“Harvard didn’t teach you shit, did they?” Liebgott sneers, “what you had was miles fuckin’ better, and I get it. I'm glad for you. What the fuck ever. Still doesn’t mean I can’t hate you for it.”

“That doesn't even make sense-"

“I didn’t fucking want you there,” Liebgott bites out, and then deflates, like the fight had gone out of him, “I wouldn’t want my fuckin’ dog there, I-” He cuts himself off, shaking his head and fisting Webster’s collar.

“Schatz?” Webster says, so soft Henry barely hears it.

Something in Henry’s stomach lurched. The anger he had taken as petty resentment wasn’t that at all. Neither was Webster’s need to make things right coming from a man desperate to regain his spot in the squad.

“That place was a shit hole, Dave. I didn’t want you there. I-” He shakes him a little by the collar, “I didn't _want_ you to go through it- but I- I just-”

Webster’s hands reach up to wrap around his wrists, understanding all over his face. Liebgott looks uncomfortable, being so vulnerable. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry.”

Liebgott just shakes his head, and Webster instantly he pulls that skinny body close, fisting the back of his jacket. Liebgott releases his collar to cup the back of his head, his face pressed to his hair.

Henry wasn’t stupid; you didn’t get into West Point if you were dumb, no matter what your connections were. He knew some men found comfort in each other in the war, but that’s just what it was. Two men needing release, with no woman in sight. While it wasn’t a big deal, it wasn’t talked about, and it sure as hell wasn’t brought back home with them. Judging from the way Webster’s holding Liebgott and murmuring German where his face is pressed to his chest, this wasn’t anything like that.

They were both homosexuals. Honest to God homosexuals, in a relationship, or the closest thing to it two people that depraved could have.

“I didn’t know you had a dog,” Webster murmurs, trying to lighten the mood. It clearly worked, from the bark of laughter that leaves Liebgott. Webster tilts his head up and smiles at Liebgott like he’s his whole world.

“Oh fuck you-” Leibgott hisses, and then they were kissing, gasping against each other’s mouths, vicious.

Henry backs out of the hallway and to the stairs slowly, sitting when the backs of his boots hit the bottom step, waiting for his thoughts to knit together.

He should go report to Captain Speirs. Or Winters, since Speirs seems like the type that would ignore this as long as it doesn’t affect how they fight. Hell, he had his own suspicions about the way he was with Lipton, though he dismissed it. Maybe this whole fucking company was queer. 

Henry hears Liebgott’s laugh and gets to his feet, taking the stairs as quietly as he can.

He needs to do something about it. He can’t let two men like that in the army. He can’t--

He can’t.

Henry stumbles into their room, clumsy as he climbs into bed and lies back. A few of the beds are empty, one of the redheads he doesn’t know the name of and Perconte gone, and no one stirs.  


He can’t do that to either of them. They’re good men, good paratroopers. The mental illness that affects them isn’t making them bad at their jobs.

Who knows, it might be a passing thing, some flight of fancy. Men in battle, who have had more shit thrown at him than most, looking for a bit of warmth and affection. He has no doubt Webster is unlike the friends he had in boarding school that studied at Harvard, and will be looking for someone intellectually on his level.

They stumble in then, and Henry closes his eyes to sleep fake sleep, They whisper to each other, gently and in German, and Henry shifts away from them only when they try to climb into the bunks.

When he finds out he’s been reassigned, he can’t help but feel relieved they’re someone else’s problem.


End file.
